Page 10 of Borrowed Bride

“Take her to the washroom. Get her a brush for her hair and let her touch up her makeup. Then, bring her to the study. Three minutes, not a second longer.”

“Yes, Sir.” The servant nods quickly and then bows his head at Gianna. “This way, ma’am.”

She shoots me an uncertain look, then slips from my grasp as she follows the servant toward the nearest washroom.

I need her to look perfect.

In her absence, I have time to check my phone, which has been flooded with missed calls and ignored texts ever since I ran into her. This isn’t the time for me to fall off the map and as I read, I can see that most think I was assassinated or fell wounded somewhere in the city.

We’re on the brink of war, so such assumptions are not too wild. This is where my focus should be. Protecting my family and my people. Instead, my father is constantly pushing me toward marriage and a damn baby. This better work.

Three minutes later, Gianna meets me outside the study looking much healthier. Her wild curls are tamed, and her makeup has been adjusted.

I take her arm and lead her inside the study.

A large table stretches out in the middle of the room. The roaring fireplace to the left is surrounded by chairs filled with men. Those not seated stand around with drinks in hand and whatever argument we walk in on falls immediately silent.

“Marco!” The concerned faces and voices of my lieutenants fill the air.

“Where the hell were you, man?”

“We thought you’d been killed!”

“Did you forget that you set this blasted meeting up?”

“You’re lucky we didn’t start a war on your behalf!”

Gianna’s hand suddenly tightens against my forearm at the influx of noises and questions that flood our way.

Those loud demands slowly fade as each man, in turn, spots the beautiful woman on my arm, and a painfully deadly silence falls.

“Who is that?” one man pipes up, and he’s immediately silenced by his counterpart’s sharp elbow in his ribs.

“This is Gianna,” I declare loudly and my heart clenches faintly. “She’s my wife. I know we had a meeting today but I was busy getting married.”

The air suddenly turns cold like a frozen winter breeze has snapped through the room. No one speaks. No one moves. Everyone is frozen, waiting for one reaction in particular.

My father.

He sits by the fire, puffing slowly on a cigar. The trail of smoke from his mouth abruptly ends at my revelation, and he stands slowly. The cigar dangles from his fingertips, and he turns, revealing his handsome salt-and-pepper features to Gianna.

There’s a split second when his face is calm and I contemplate a favorable outcome.

Then he explodes.

“My son!” he bellows like a bull. “Are you trying to send me to an early grave?! What the hell were you thinking? Have you lost all the fucking sense I crammed into that thick skull of yours?”

His eyes widen, revealing the whites all around his irises and his pale skin purples in his fury.

“You?! My son?! Marrying a complete stranger?!”

His anger is explosive, and I shift a half step in front of Gianna as her nails dig painfully into the soft flesh of my wrist.

“Father—”

“Do you have any idea the shit you’ve just landed us in? You selfish bastard!” He rages on, oblivious to my attempts to talk. “Do you have any sense of how many families will be personally insulted to learn that Marco Barrone has overlooked their daughters and married a nobody?” My father turns and launches his smoldering cigar into the fire. “We’ll be in all-out war withevery family from here to the coast because you can’t control your fucking dick!”

I sigh, bored as the rampage continues. Several lieutenants turn to their phones, likely beginning the damage control because my father is right. I can think of at least ten families that will be furious to hear I’m off the market, but I’m confident we can weather the storm.

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